


Rounds with Hermione: A Drinking Games Fic

by almondjoyz



Series: Drinking Games [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-27
Updated: 2011-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 06:32:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almondjoyz/pseuds/almondjoyz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Find out what Ron and Hermione got up to during the three previous episodes!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rounds with Hermione: A Drinking Games Fic

The Gryffindor common room was empty, save for an eighteen-year-old young man with hair the colour of fire and his chestnut-haired girlfriend. They were in the middle of one of their famous rows and the room cleared out as soon as words started flying at the speed of light. It was a normal, everyday occurrence for the couple, who had nearly six years of verbal sparring under their belts. They’d become friends before they were both twelve, and the war of words started shortly thereafter.

Underneath those fights, however, lurked a powerful force that only grew as the years went on, multiplying ten-fold by the time they were fourteen. They’d stopped speaking several times over the years, and the young man’s near-death experience when they were both seventeen finally drew them closer. Confessions of love and yearning soon followed and they became the couple everyone thought they should have become years earlier. The last barriers broke down two months earlier as they became lovers, giving them another reason to fight and make up. But the making up was much different now, and much more enjoyable.

And those thoughts are the thoughts that were bothering young Ron Weasley. It was another Friday night and his time with her was again being cut short by a timetable created by the Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hermione Granger, the same girl he was in love with and rather livid with at the moment.

“Why do I always have to do rounds on a bloody Friday night? I’m sick of it Hermione!” Ron gesticulated wildly. “You do this on purpose, don’t you, just so I can’t have any fun with my friends. I bloody well hate you!” He fell onto the scarlet sofa with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. He pursed his lips together and felt dreadfully angry.

It was the same nearly every other Friday night for the young man. Hermione was in charge of scheduling rounds for the prefects. This Friday, and nearly every other Friday of the term, it was his turn to do rounds. To make things worse, it was Dean Thomas’ birthday and Ron heard rumours of a wild drinking bash to be held some time during the night.

“Ron, I don’t do it on purpose! How could I?”

“You do so, just to make it the worst time of my life.” He scowled at her again. “Last time it was bloody Draco Malfoy. That was loads of fun that was.” He paused for a breath. “Let’s see, I’ve also had rounds with Parkinson, Colin, and that ugly bird from Ravenclaw. What’s her name?”

“Amanda Gehrig.”

“Yeah. You never put me on with the cute ones,” he mumbled, knowing she would hear it anyway. _Too bad no one’s near as cute as she is…especially when she’s angry. Man, it’s hot!_

“Ron, that is so chauvinistic! Did you bother to see who you were doing rounds with tonight?” Hermione began to form a little smile on her lips and her posture relaxed.

“No. But let me guess…uh, Justin Finch-Fletchley? He’s due for an evening with Ron, isn’t he?” He flopped onto his side. “You are so cruel, Hermione.”

“No, silly.” She kneeled in front of him and whispered in his ear. “Me.” Ron’s blue eyes shot open and he sat up.

“You?” He smiled. “Well, that’s a lot better than Justin!” Ron Weasley was in much better spirits. The few other times he was scheduled to do rounds with Hermione, they inevitably wound up in either the Charms classroom that never locked correctly or in the Room of Requirement for a bit of a snog. It was one such occasion that led to the change in their relationship and the thought of a repeat of that night soon brought a smile to Ron’s face.

“Happy now?” Hermione’s voice was smooth as butter and she leaned in to give Ron a kiss that gave him goosebumps up and down his spine. “I’ll be right back.” He watched her leave, never taking his eyes off her shapely arse as it swung back and forth underneath the fabric of her Muggle trousers. _Damn_ , Ron thought. _I won’t be able to walk if I keep that up._

A thumping on the stairs caught Ron’s attention. It couldn’t be Hermione; her walk was much lighter. Looking up, he saw Seamus Finnigan waiting impatiently at the bottom of the stairs to the girls’ dormitory.

“Hey, Seamus!” Ron shouted across the room.

“Whatcha need?” Seamus looked rather impatient.

“You doing anything for Thomas’ birthday?” _I feel the need to party._

“Well, he and Padma….”

“Ah. Enough said. I’ll see you later. Bloody rounds tonight, wouldn’t you know,” Ron complained only half-heartedly.

“Don’t you like having rounds with Hermione?”

“I never said that,” Ron answered. “Hey, how’d you know?”

“Well, you seemed happy about doing rounds tonight. Not like last week with Malfoy.”

“That was a waste of time. Bloody git,” Ron replied.

“Ron! It’s nine!” The two boys looked up to see Hermione come down the stairs.

 _Bloody hell_ , thought Ron. _What’d she do?_

“You look nice,” remarked Seamus.

“Why thank you, Seamus. Do I Ron?” She looked at her boyfriend coyly.

“Uh, yeah, ‘Mione. You always do. But you look great tonight,” Ron reassured her. “Well, duty calls.” He took Hermione’s hand and headed off toward the portrait hole. He looked back at Seamus, winking.

“Did you really mean that, Ron? Do I look great?” He hated it when she was fishing for compliments; he never knew what to answer. But if he played his cards right, he mused, maybe Hermione might just be willing to slack off on the rounds tonight.

“Well, of course, dear. Your beauty is beyond measure, and I consider myself to be the luckiest bloke on the planet to be associated with you.” He was sure she would see right through that pathetic attempt at flattery. Instead of the harsh words he was expected, he received a toothy smile from the dentists’ daughter and felt himself sink a little further in love with her.

Walking down the halls of the castle hand in hand, Ron and Hermione made short work of the typical stops on their rounds. They chased students out of the Charms classroom where they’d first made love. Ron gave her a lopsided grin which earned him a light blush for his efforts.

“Something the matter, Mione?” Ron asked her, knowing full well what she was thinking about. He had to admit he was thinking the same thing.

“Ronald! What ever do you mean?” _God she is driving me nuts!_ This was her little game. She teased. She pretended to forget what they did when they were alone. She pretended to not enjoy the feeling of their bodies pressed up against each other as they joined their bodies. _Fuck you, Weasley! Stop it!_

Not many people outside their year knew how far their relationship had gone, and that was just fine with him. The last thing he needed was to receive another bloody Howler from his mum, chastising him for his rakish behaviour in front of the entire school. _That would not be good._

“You are such a bloody tease, you know that?” He tugged her along the corridor, using his wand to blast open broom cupboards. His actions uncovered three couples making use of the small, cramped spaces and sent them all rushing back to their proper houses. The last couple was in a rather ‘advanced’ state of undress when they fled the cupboard.

“Was that Crabbe? And who the hell was THAT?” Ron screeched to a halt and grabbed Hermione before she crashed into him. “I didn’t think any bird could be so desperate to be snogging him! What?” Hermione was giggling.

“Ron, it wasn’t a girl.” He had to strain to hear her.

“What?!” _She couldn’t have said what I thought she said, could she?_

“Ron, it was Justin!” Ron’s jaw dropped to his chest.

“Well thank Merlin I didn’t have rounds with him tonight!” Ron breathed a sigh of relief. “How could you tell? She…he was wearing a skirt.” Ron stopped himself. “Oh that’s just wrong! And to think I spent an hour Polyjuiced as Crabbe! I’m scarred for life, Hermione. Hold me,” Ron added dramatically. He pretended to sob as he dropped his head to her shoulder. Her arm wrapped around him, gently patting his back.

“There, there, Ronniekinns. It’s alright.” Hermione was giggling again.

“Don’t you dare do that again. You turned me into a limp noodle by saying that.” He joined her laughter. “So, uh, Mione…”

“Yes?” The movement of her hands became slower and felt completely unmotherly. She turned her head and licked his ear with her tongue. “We haven’t used that one yet,” she suggested.

“Oh you are bad, Miss Granger,” he purred, nipping her neck. “Are you suggesting we become hypocrites?”

“Absolutely,” she whispered, pulling him into the small broom cupboard. “ _Lumos!_ ” Her wand lit up the room and she nearly launched herself at him, capturing his mouth with her eager one.

Ron pulled her to him and pushed her against the wall, eliciting a soft “oh” from her, which drove him mad. He moved his mouth quickly over hers, plunging his tongue inside and stroking hers roughly. His hands moved to her waist and slipped inside her shirt, pushing him closer to the edge with the feel of her soft, silky skin. They didn’t have much time like this lately, and Ron felt it. A lot. He’d wasted precious nights wanking and casting cleansing charms on himself in the middle of the night. Hell, it even happened more than once in a night. But of course, he would never admit that to her. She’d think him a right randy old bugger if she knew. Ron let out a little grunt, knowing she already thought that about him.

“Ron?” She looked so damned hot, looking up at him with her lips red and full from kissing him and her breathing coming fast and hard. His eyes fell to her chest and her round, ripe breasts that begged him to suck them. Ron cleared his throat.

“Uh, maybe we should go?” _Now why the devil did I say THAT? I am so bleeding stupid!_

“Er, okay.” She sounded disappointed and began smoothing her hair, or rather, attempting to smooth her hair. “Are you okay, Ron? You seem a bit, um, off.”

“I just can’t do this in here. Crabbe and Justin?” Ron shivered at the thought. “Come on, let’s go.” Ron slowly opened the door, looking side to side, making sure that no one would see them. In all honesty, he didn’t really care about himself if someone caught them; he worried about Hermione. She was in her element as Head Girl and as long as there was breath in him, he would not let anything besmirch her good name. “Okay, coast is clear.”

He pulled her out of the little room and continued on their way down the winding corridors, finding more errant students here and there while he contented himself with stroking the flesh of her hand with his thumb. It was a simple touch, really, but it felt more intimate than anything he could think of. She trusted him and loved him, and there would be no one else for him. Ever.

“Ron?” Hermione broke the silence of their stroll.

Ron looked at his wrist watch and smiled. “What?” He stopped and gathered her close. Looking down at Hermione gave him a warm feeling throughout his body, not just _there._ “It’s only half ten, Hermione. We should really get to the Astronomy Tower, you know.”

“No, it’s just that you seem so quiet tonight and we had that row back in the common room. I really don’t do it on purpose, you know, the schedule.”

“I know. But it’s Dean’s birthday today and I think Seamus had something planned is all.”

“Oh Merlin! You wanted to go to the party, didn’t you? Why didn’t you tell me? You go. I’ll finish up.” She looked so sad.

“No, no. They’re probably half-pissed by now, you know?” Ron admitted.

“You’re kidding! How did he manage to sneak it past me?” she asked incredulously and began walking again, with his hand in hers.

“He’s had six years of practise getting things past you, Hermione,” Ron chuckled. “Besides, I really don’t fancy seeing Dean trying to get Padma and Parvati into his little fantasy, you know?” Hermione’s eyes grew wide as she realised what Ron was talking about.

“You’re kidding! Don’t you go getting any ideas, Ronald.”

“Have you? Had any of those ideas?” A devilishly dirty thought came to mind.

“Ron!” Ron let out a laugh that echoed through the stone walls. “I have no such thoughts about you and Harry…”

“Harry? I never knew, Hermione!” Her face began to turn a rather nice shade of scarlet. It looked quite fetching, actually. “As long as you remember who he’s dating. She’s got a bunch of older brothers who would kill any woman that broke up her relationship,” Ron teased with a smile.

Hermione stopped and took Ron’s face in her empty hand. “I fancy a lollipop, Ron.”

“You never eat sweets, Hermione,” Ron reminded her. Her eyes were nearly black, blacker than he’d seen them in a long time. He knew that look. He often put it there. Realisation swept over him, turning his mouth into an ‘O.’

“Oh, Ron, I love it when you’re thick.” _She is evil,_ he thought, following her into the empty Charms classroom.

When they emerged from the classroom an hour and a half later, Ron’s hair was tousled and he wore the widest grin his face would allow. Looking down at his shirt, he noticed it was buttoned completely wrong and his boxers were sticking out of the fly of his jeans. He didn’t care in the least. He’d been thoroughly shagged by Hermione and received an earth-shattering blow-job. _I could die right now and be a happy man._

“You alright there, Ron?” He heard laughter in her voice. _Oh, she knows I’m just fine. Just fine._ He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to his side.

“Oh yeah. You?” He saw her blush, knowing that she was remembering her screams echoing in the room they just left. Either that or she was remembering how it felt when he put his tongue inside her, making her bite her lip so hard she bled. “Should we get back?”

“What about the rest of the rounds? We’ve only done half,” she reminded him. Ron shook his head in disbelief.

“Hermione,” he whined, “did you really think I want to finish the bloody rounds after that?” He pointed back towards the Charms classroom.

Her head fell to her chest and Ron could tell she was smiling, if not laughing. “I really don’t feel much up for it anyhow. Besides, Filch gets much more pleasure out of it than we do.”

“Too true,” he agreed. “Now let’s get back before Filch gets us in detention.” The two of them quickly ran up the stairs to the common room and the first thing they noticed was the quiet. Eerie, unnatural quiet.

“Where is everyone?” Hermione’s eyes darted back and forth around the room, mentally ticking off all the usual places couples buried themselves. “Harry and Ginny are usually still up.”

“I’ll go check my room. I bet the party’s still going on.” Ron dropped her hand and took the stairs by two. It was times like these that he cursed the fact that the seventh-years slept at the very top of the tower. He was completely knackered from having sex and then he had to climb all the way to the top. Huffing and puffing, he pushed open the door to the room and was assaulted by numerous unpleasant odours.

“Ugh, it smells in here. What’d you guys do?” he asked the room. Ron moved over to his bed, noticing Harry’s curtains were drawn. No one answered him and he looked around, taking in the empty bottles strewn across the floor. His eyes settled on the piles of clothing that dotted the dark wood floor. “Is that a bra?”

Ron got off his bed, and strolled over to Dean, passed out on his bed, fully clothed, covered with a light blanket. He noticed Neville’s bed was empty and smiled. A giggle caught his attention and he strode over to Seamus’ four-poster.

“Hi, Ron,” Lavender greeted him with a giggle. She nudged Seamus in the shoulder. His ex-girlfriend was naked. _When did I miss that?_ thought Ron as his eyes settled on Lavender’s chest. Things sort of ‘popped’ in the last year.

“Finnigan!” Ron barked. Seamus groaned in answer. “Twenty points each. Lavender, get up and go to bed. God, it stinks to high heaven in here. Where’d you get this stuff?” He took a step toward the door, kicking empty bottles that lay in his path. He turned toward Harry’s bed as Lavender got up and scrambled out the door. Ron smiled as he watched her scantily clad arse leave the room.

Back beside Harry’s bed, Ron nearly stepped in what Harry deposited on the floor. Rustling noises from inside the curtains drew Ron’s attention back to Harry’s bed.

“Harry, are you going to be alright?” Ron stopped at the foot of the bed, noticing a familiar shirt on the floor. _What’s my old shirt doing here?_ He picked it up and tossed it onto the floor near his trunk.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay, mate.” Harry replied from the confines of the bed curtains. “Can you do me a favour and clean that up? I’m, uh, not really up to it. Shhh!”

“Harry? What’s wrong?” Ron stepped closer to the bed. “Want some help?” He was almost ready to pull back the curtains when Harry shouted at him.

“No! No! I’ll be fine, Ron. Just leave me alone, okay?”

“Fine, but you might need a Hangover Potion in the morning, and I don’t fancy asking Madame Pomfrey for you blokes tomorrow.” He let out a heavy sigh and began picking things up off the floor. He developed a habit of cleaning when he was upset and found all sorts of interesting things on the floor. Delicate things. Things his roommates would never wear. _Would they? Bloody hell, what went on in here? Am I living with a poofter?_

 _No,_ Ron reassured himself. He knew each and every one of those blokes was very much straight. Shaking his head, he stopped by Harry’s bed again and cleaned up the mess with a quick charm and smiled, congratulating himself on being such a good friend. Wanting more information, he grabbed the heavy curtains around Harry’s bed and got the shock of his life.

“Ginny! What the fuck are you doing in here? Where on earth is your shirt?” Ron’s eyes snapped back to the Chudley Cannons shirt lying on the floor. “Bloody hell, Ginny, get back to your room!”

Ginny opened her eyes wearily. “Ron, I can’t move. Shut up and let me get some sleep, okay? You’re gonna wake up Harry.” Sure enough, Harry was sound asleep next to her.

“Oh no, you are NOT sleeping here with Harry. Did you? Really sleep _sleep_ with him?” He stared at his sister, not wanting to hear the answer, but at the same time needing to know.

“Bugger off, Ron! No, I didn’t fuck Harry.” Ron cringed at the word. Just thinking that his sister would do that was enough to make him want to throw up. “Honestly, I can’t make it to my room. Harry told me to stay, since I was already here.” Ginny sighed heavily. “Please shut up and let me sleep. And by the way, stop spinning!” She fell back against the bed, eyes closed, sleeping the sleep of the wasted.

Ron shook his head and headed toward the door. He silently told himself to file this evening away in the category specially reserved for future blackmail of his sister. He would never let her live this down, and it felt damn good to have something over on Ginny for once.

He opened the dormitory door and found Hermione standing on the other side. Ron closed his eyes as he imagined what the Head Girl would say if she saw this mess.

She clamped her hand over her mouth as if to stop herself from vomiting, and he really couldn’t blame her for it. “Ron! What went on in here?” He pushed her out of the way and shut the door behind him.

“Uh, well, they had a birthday party for Dean,” Ron answered. “They’re all passed out.”

“Excuse me? They were _drinking?_ Where did they get it? Oh, they are going to be in SO much trouble. Did you take away any points? Please tell me you did, Ron, or I’ll…” Ron cut her off with a passionate kiss, pushing her over to the wall on the right-hand side of the door. He hadn’t planned on having another go with Hermione, but well, he had Ginny to think about. He felt her body relax against his and knew that she wouldn’t need much more convincing. She was always so in control of herself as far as academics and her responsibilities as Head Girl, that Ron took extreme pleasure in making her let go like this. The fact that these moments gave him extreme pleasure was only a bonus.

“We can’t go in there, Mione,” he whispered huskily in her ear while tracing it with his hot, wet tongue. “Your room then?” She nodded her agreement as the power of speech left her. Ron nudged her toward the stairs that led to her Head Girl quarters, his hands causing her to shiver in anticipation, his lips and tongue slowly melting her resolve.

“Ron, what was going on in there?” Her voice was breathy and deep.

“Who cares? Just some drinking games.”

*****

The first thing Ron noticed was her hair. It was usually wild and all over the place, but whenever he would wake up next to her in the morning, it always tickled his cheeks or his nose. The latter of the two situations always made him sneeze, which would invariably wake her up. But this morning, her hair was fanned out across her chest, the darkness of her brown hair a rich contrast to the light red hair and pale skin of his chest. Breathing in her scent with a deep breath, he felt himself get hard, wanting more of her.

With a sigh, he remembered last night. After “convincing” Hermione to not disturb Harry and the others, they snuck up to her room and Ron had ended up fucking her on the hard floor in front of the fireplace in her room. Paired with the residual effects of her excellent blow-job in the Charms classroom, Ron was spent. But of course, Hermione had other ideas and coerced him into another go round, attempting a rather unique and interesting position. She had done her research, that one, and it was the most brilliant thing he’d ever done.

Armed with the latest memory, Ron traced the line of her jaw and stopped at the ear on the other side, softly grazing the bumps with the very tip of his finger. He counted to five silently, knowing she would wake up before he finished. She always woke up when he did that. He felt her smile against his chest.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Ron murmured while stroking her curly hair. His erection was painful now.

“Mmm, aren’t you the best way to wake up?” She raised her head and met his eyes while she slid onto his body, pressing her warm flesh against him. With her arms wrapped around his midsection, Hermione began stroking his nipples with her tongue.

“Oh, hell, Hermione,” Ron groaned, his head arched back against the pillows. His hand went to her thigh and up over her hip before heading inward. She was wet and hot when he touched her and Ron wondered what she dreamt about to get her this way. When her hand drifted down to his cock, he no longer cared about her dreams and wanted to make her reality as pleasurable as possible.

*****

Ron pulled the covers back over Hermione’s body and kissed her softly on the cheek. She smiled and turned over, taking the majority of the duvet with her, going back to sleep. After rummaging around the floor for his clothes, Ron dressed and raked his hand through his hair a few times before heading out the door. He wanted to talk to Harry.

Harry slept with Ginny last night.

The big brother part of Ron Weasley was angry and wanted to strike Harry and throw Ginny into a cloister somewhere. The best friend part of him wanted to tease Harry mercilessly for not actually having sex and passing out with a nearly naked bird next to him in bed. But that bird was his little sister. _The three of us need to have a talk._

Lost in his thoughts, Ron didn’t notice the door of the bathroom swing open until he was face to face with Harry, looking frightful. Ron was sure Harry was experiencing the worst headache of his life, beating out even the worst headache brought on by You-Know-Who.

Aside from the obvious after-effects of drinking, Harry was quiet and looked like he was caught stealing from Gringotts. The tension was almost thick enough to cut.

“Hey,” Harry muttered. His voice was barely a whisper.

“You alright this morning? You looked a little green last night,” Ron told him. As much as he tried, Ron couldn’t get the image of Harry in bed with Ginny out of his head. Topless, she was, and looked entirely too comfortable lying there. He knew that she was old enough to make her own decisions, but the hypocrite inside him still felt that she should act more like a nun than she had been. Ginny would never let him forget about the things he did with Lavender or the things he was now doing with Hermione.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Harry answered. Harry had the habit of not talking when he was upset and Ron wasn’t in the mood for his games this morning.

“Are you going to say anything with more than one syllable to me at all today, Harry?”

“Ron, come on, nothing happened with her,” Harry reminded him.

“I know, so why are you so quiet this morning?”

“My head hurts and I feel like shit, okay? A drummer has taken up residence in my skull and is slowly chipping away at my nerve endings.” Harry rubbed his forehead absently.

“So what’d you guys do last night up there?” Harry smiled for the first time, and they headed down the stairs to the common room. Ron followed Harry and sat on a footstool near the chair Harry sat down on.

“Seamus got a party together. There was all sorts of shit to drink…” Harry went on to highlight the events of the party last night.

“Dean kissed Seamus! Oh that must have been a sight!” Ron laughed until his sides hurt; Harry almost joined him, but had turned rather green the moment he had started, and had immediately clamped his hand to his mouth. Ron watched him swallow and chuckled at the face Harry made.

“You know what the best part of it was?” Harry had a devious look in his eyes, which, for once, matched his skin tone quite well.

“I am all ears,” Ron said as he leaned forward. _This was going to be good._

“Parvati and Padma came in this morning, stripped and climbed into bed with Dean, pretending they had the threesome!”

“No! Bloody hell! Didya see their tits?” From what he could tell through robes, Padma had the better rack, but Parvati’s arse was something to behold when she wore jeans.

Harry smiled in answer. “They’ve got nothing on Gin, though.”

Ron’s grin faded. “Pardon?” He could swear he saw the actual words trying to form inside Harry’s mouth, but nothing came out. “Just tell me what happened without the commentary.”

“They kissed,” Harry whispered. “Padma and Parvati. With tongue.” Ron fell off the stool with his mouth wide open. Long, agonising seconds passed before Ron could breathe again. He swore he was having a heart attack.

“No!” _Damn, some guys have all the luck._

“Oh yeah, oh yeah.” Harry nodded his head, looking as if he didn’t believe it himself. “I bet Dean lost it right there. I know I almost did.”

“So, then what?” Ron scrambled back onto the footstool, feeling a bit of a twinge in his bum, but the image Harry conjured was well worth the pain.

“Parvati left and then Padma took him to task for the way he was acting. You know, going on about the threesome he wanted for his birthday?” The two friends smiled at each other. “But I think that kiss was enough wish fulfillment for the time being.”

“Gods, I wish I’d been there,” Ron stated. Ron was keen on shagging Hermione, but seeing twins kiss had to be every bloke’s deepest wish. And if Ron knew Dean Thomas the way he thought he did, Dean was busting out all over at the sight.

“No you don’t. You would have missed out on your romp with the Head Girl,” Harry teased. “And I know you so enjoy the girl giving head.” Ron felt himself burn from the collar all the way to his cheeks and gave Harry a whack on the shoulder.

“Ron! Leave him alone!” It was Ginny, and she looked fit to be tied. “Stop it! We didn’t do anything. I thought I made that clear to you last night.”

“Harry, tell your girlfriend to shut it.”

“Do I have ‘stupid’ written on my forehead?” Harry chortled. He got off the floor and walked over to Ginny. “I want to apologise for my git of a friend.” Ron watched Harry give Ginny his puppy-dog look and Ron painfully wished they’d just leave the room. He loved Harry like a brother, but seeing him all giddy in love was enough to make him toss it.

“Are you hungry, Harry?” she asked.

“I don’t think food will be such a good idea right now,” Harry answered, rubbing his stomach. Ron saw the opportunity and seized it.

“Oh, come on, Harry. It’s Saturday. The house-elves do a keen fry-up on Saturdays.” Ron strolled over to him, laying an arm across his shoulder. “Sausage, the greasy kind, scrambled eggs, bacon dripping with fat, kippers, scones with honey butter, muffins and marmalade, and don’t forget that cheesy egg casserole I know you love. What do you say, Harry? Join me?” Ron’s smile was wide as he saw Harry’s greenish tint return. _I am so loving this. He usually is Mr. Perfect, and now he’s learning about payback._

“You. Are. So. Evil.” Harry said, punctuating each word. “Come on, Ginny. Let’s go for a walk. The fresh air will do us good.” He took her hand and they walked toward the portrait hole, not even looking back to say good-bye.

Ron shook his head and laughed as he flopped onto the sofa, waiting for Hermione to come down the stairs. She didn’t sleep much longer after Ron left most mornings and basically used the time alone to collect her thoughts before facing the world. Those little habits were what made him love her so much and brought a smile to his face.

Footfalls came down the steps, causing Ron to look up. Seamus. Oh goody. Ron smiled wickedly.

“Morning, Seamus,” Ron greeted. “And how are you this fine, fine morning?” Ron’s voice became a bit louder with each word, and he could just see the cringe form on Seamus’ face.

“Blimey, Ron, shut up!” Upon closer investigation, Ron noticed the other boy’s eyes were bloodshot. Seamus also looked like he was going on holiday; his bags were packed under his eyes. “Have ye got any potion on ya? I got a nasty hangover.”

“Nope! So, was it fun?” At this moment, he understood the great joy Fred and George took in giving him a good ribbing. _This was fun_ , he thought.

“Stop bein’ so damned cheerful. Ye chased me girl out last nigh’ right when we was getting’ all worked up. Bloody git!” Seamus flung himself onto the other sofa and covered his head with a cushion. “Why did we do it Ron? Why?”

“Don’t ask me, Seamus. I wasn’t there. Oh, did you and Dean take things any further after that kiss?”

“Who the FUCK told ye that?” Ron smiled widely, giving Seamus the answer. “I don’ care if Harry IS the bloody Boy-Who-Lived! He’s gonna be on the wrong end of a swift kick in the arse!”

 _Seamus obviously forgot about his headache_ , Ron thought.

“And I’ve got a few choice words for the smarmy Chosen One, too!” Seamus stomped over to the portrait hole and left in a huff, causing Ron to laugh out loud.

“What’s so funny?” Ron turned around and smiled as he saw Hermione in front of him.

“Seamus is going to kick Harry’s arse, that’s all,” Ron said casually as she rolled her eyes.

“What’d Harry do anyway?”

“Told me that Seamus and Dean were snogging last night,” Ron informed her, a smile fighting in the corners of his mouth.

“What? Uh... who…huh?” He made Hermione speechless. Ron decided he’d have to write this down for posterity’s sake.

“Sorry, love, I don’t have all the details. I don’t think Seamus is ready to out himself!” Hermione gave him another quizzical look, making Ron laugh again. “Just kidding. They played Spin the Bottle or something, I think, and well, you know.” He pulled her down into his lap for a bit of ‘you know.’

Her eyes fluttered shut as Ron nuzzled her neck in the spot he knew drove her crazy. Her hand pushed his head away from her. _She’s got her Head Girl cap on now._

“So what were they doing up there, Ron? This is the kind of thing you as a prefect are supposed to put a stop to. Drinking is against the rules. You know that, Ron!” It was Ron’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Hermione,” he began, “give them a break! You think everyone gives a flying fuck about rules when we could all be in the middle of a war at any minute?” She was staring at him, flabbergasted. “And just so you know, I do read the rules. Sexual activity between students is punishable by expulsion. Shall I report you?”

It was too late to take it back, and Ron knew it. He saw her eyes widen and then narrow. She was mad. Nearly as mad as when he told her she was a girl. Then she did something he didn’t expect. She cried. Big, fat tears that built up in her eyes before flowing down her cheeks in rivers. Based on years of experience, Ron knew that she didn’t cry over a lot of things. But then again, she knew the power she had over him when she did cry.

“Hermione…”

“That was low, Ron.” She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him through her tears, which thankfully, had stopped.

“I’m sorry,” Ron answered. He’d got into the habit of saying that a lot since dating Hermione and meant those words nearly eighty percent of the time. This, fortunately, fell into that eighty percent and he hoped Hermione knew it.

“Forgiven,” she informed him, although she didn’t look it. “Hungry?”

“Now there’s a stupid question. After what I’ve done already this morning, of course I’m hungry!” With that, Ron stood up with her and led her out of the common room.

*****

NEWT exams were a month away, and Ron could really care less. He didn’t care about classes the way Hermione did and hated studying with a passion. So why was he in the library? Ron rubbed his head at the thought, trying to remember the reason for his trip in here.

“What is that name?” This search was not going well at all.

“Mr. Weasley, are you quite through disturbing my library?” asked Madame Pince.

“Who am I disturbing? There are only three other people in here!” The old bird was really annoying today and her skin looked even pastier than usual. Ron decided she desperately needed some sunlight.

“Mr. Weasley,” she warned him, “find what you’re looking for or leave!”

Ron swore under his breath and suddenly remembered the author’s name. “Barrett Browning! I’m looking for something by Elizabeth Barrett Browning!”

Pince had a strange look on her face. Strange for her, that is. “Poetry? Muggle poetry?”

He sheepishly nodded, looking for a hole to crawl into.

“Follow me, then.” She led him into the back part of the library where Ron had never been. With a swish of her wand, the room was filled with light and there shelves upon shelves of books. Following the librarian, Ron was almost sure the books in the room were by Muggle authors, but they were walking too fast for him to look at the names on the spines.

“Poetry. B…B…B…ah! Here we are! Is this what you were looking for then?” She held out a thin book with a sage green spine. Sonnets from the Portuguese and Other Love Poems.

“Yes, ma’am. Has Hogwarts always had Muggle books?”

“Of course, Mr. Weasley. They offer great insight into the minds of our fellow human beings.” She was surprising, this wrinkled old witch.

“Can I check this one out, then?”

Pince smiled. “Yes, you may. And I daresay Miss Granger will appreciate the thought most heartily.” Ron could feel the warmth of his blush making its way to his ears. “They are beautiful poems. I believe the one you want is Sonnet Forty-three. Come along, then.”

Ron followed her out the door and signed his name to the card. After placing the book in his bag, he looked away from Madame Pince, who was smiling at him again. _Haven’t felt this weird since I checked out_ The Teen Wizards’ Guide, he thought.

Lost in his thoughts, Ron didn’t notice the door of the library open until it was too late. He walked right into Harry.

“Hey, I thought you were outside with Hermione and Ginny.” Ron checked his bag, making sure Harry couldn’t see the book. The last thing he wanted the others to know about was that he had just checked out a book of love poems. “I was just heading out there.”

“Uh, I need a book. NEWTs, you know,” Harry stammered in reply. “Er, I need to look something up.” Ron followed him back into the library.

“Want me to wait for you?”

“No! I’ll get it myself!” Harry quickly walked away from Ron, heading in the direction of the Transfiguration section. With a shrug of his shoulders, Ron left and began to head outside to meet up with Hermione.

*****

“He went upstairs? You sure, Ginny?” Ron had been looking for Harry for more than an hour. When he returned to the common room, Ron found Ginny reading a book and Harry was no where to be found.

“Ron, I saw him leave with my own two eyes. He seemed a bit distracted and said he had some reading to do.” Ginny smirked and shook her head. “I guess he didn’t want to read whatever it was in front of me.”

“Really?” Her statement piqued his interest. “What’d the book look like?” Ron bent over the back of the sofa, looking Ginny in the eye.

“I don’t know Ron. Maybe black with a red spine. There’s a book like it at home…”

“What! When did you read THAT book?” Ginny’s face reddened rather quickly.

Clearing her throat, she asked, “And what book, dear brother, are you referring to?” She batted her eyes innocently.

“Sorry, Gin, but I’m not Harry, and you can’t worm your way out of this with your…oh what did Harry say?” He paused to collect his thoughts. “Ah, yes, you can’t worm your way out of this by flashing your, quote, ‘eyes that are like pools of melted chocolate.’ Ugh, I think I have to go throw up now.” Ron made a retching sound as he rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Gin, you two really make me gag sometimes.” Ron straightened up and headed toward the stairs.

“Now you know how I feel, Ronniekins,” Ginny called after him.

The dormitory room was empty, or so Ron thought. The curtains around Harry’s four-poster bed were drawn and Ron could see a faint light filtering out between the tiny gaps in the fabric. The utter lack of sound told him Harry cast a Silencing Charm on his bed.

_Guess I’ll just sit here and wait._

Ron was bored. He’d been sitting on the bed for all of two minutes and hoped Harry would finish with whatever he was doing in there soon. Ron had a good idea what book Harry was reading, and if Harry had the same reaction to the book Ron himself had, well, he knew what Harry would end up doing afterwards.

Taking the thin book from his bag, Ron opened the poetry book and began reading. _This is the sort of thing Hermione would absolutely love. It’s a bit sappy, but I can see why she’d like it. It says everything I’m absolutely rubbish at._ After reading a few of the sonnets, Ron paged through and found the one he was looking for. The famous one. Sonnet Forty-three. It was the middle of the sonnet that really echoed all Ron had ever wanted to say to Hermione:

 _I love thee freely, as men strive for right;_  
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.  
I love thee with the passion put to use  
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.  
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose  
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,  
Smiles, tears, of all my life!

  
He nodded. Amazing words written by a woman a hundred years before and they expressed exactly what he felt at the moment. Yes, there would be a war, and Ron knew he’d be in the thick of it. But like his father and his brother, Bill, Ron knew that if you wait for the time to be right, it will never come. You hold on tightly to love when it comes and face the future together. He remembered someone telling him once that nothing makes you happier than knowing there’s a little more love in the world.

Closing his eyes, Ron let his memories take him back to earlier that morning when he woke up to Hermione lying across his chest with her hair spread over him like a rich velvet blanket. Just the thought of it made his heart beat double-time and he felt a smile creep up in the corners of his mouth.

“Ron!?” Ron’s eyes snapped open to find Harry’s green eyes mere inches from his own. There were beads of sweat on Harry’s brow, and his breathing was shallow, as if he’d been exercising. _Well, he was, in a way._

“Hi, Harry,” Ron greeted him, the smile turning into a smirk that was slowly turning into a snort. “What were you reading?” Ron snatched the book, which lay on his bed. “Oh, Harry, come on! You could have just asked me, you know!”

“Shut up!” Harry grabbed Ron’s book. “Love poems, Ron? _Love poems!_ Oh wait until Seamus hears about this! You’ll never hear the end of it, Weasley!”

“Give that back, Potter, or I’ll…” Unfortunately, Ron had no snappy comeback ready to throw at Harry. “Harry. Please.”

“Oh, that’s just pathetic. The Ron Weasley I know would have wrestled me and tried to hex me into oblivion.” Harry flung himself on Ron’s bed, looking disgusted with them both. “So she’s got you reading poetry now? You’re definitely whipped, my friend.”

“Oh, and who was wanking in his bed after reading a how-to book? Was it a good one, Harry? Or does Ginny do it better?” _That actually came out of my mouth? Oh shit, that’s it. The Boy Who Lived is going to kill me._

Harry didn’t answer. His head fell to his chest and suddenly, without warning, Harry burst out into raucous laughter that spread like an infection to Ron.

“Harry, if this is something you’re thinking of, just remember one thing, okay?”

“And what would that be?” Harry gave him a rather nervous grin.

“Ginny has six brothers. Make her miserable, and you’re dead.” Ron’s smile didn’t seem to comfort Harry as Ron had intended.

“Gee, really Ron? How could I forget?” Harry’s words were rich with sarcasm, and Ron felt deflated as Harry left the room.

_Damn. Just can’t keep my pie hole shut!_

*****

“No, no, no! You need to reverse the incantation to change it back, Parvati!” Lavender screamed at her friend. The seventh-years were looking over their notes for Charms in preparation for their NEWTs. “Right, Hermione? You need to say _Infantum Botilus_ and _then_ do the wand action.”

“Yeah, she’s right, Parvati.” Parvati sat back in her chair and crossed her arms in protest.

Ron had to laugh at the exchange between the three girls. Hermione never let a chance pass to show somebody up in Charms, and he was amazed she didn’t lay into Parvati more harshly. Ron hated revising and could think of a million other things he’d rather do, most of which involved either Quidditch or Hermione in various states of undress. Harry’s wrinkled face caught his attention and he was just about to say something to Harry when he erupted.

“Screw it,” he said forcefully, “I’m done with this shite.” He dumped his books, parchment and quills into his rucksack and knocked over his chair as he stood, sending it clattering to the hard stone floor, causing everyone at the table to stare at him with open mouths.

“Harry…” began Hermione.

“Hermione, shut it, okay? I have an evil wizard out there hunting me. Do you really think he cares about how many NEWTs I get, or that he’ll take a holiday so I can study?” Her mouth hung open and Ron silently cheered on Harry, picturing the Dark Lord lying on a Mediterranean nude beach. “Didn’t think so. So excuse me while I kidnap my girlfriend for a little alone time, okay?” Those last few words irked Ron and before he could do anything about it, Harry had taken hold of his sister’s hand and vanished out the portrait hole.

The silence was deafening as the rest of them sat around the table, staring at the direction of the portrait hole, each of them, it seemed, too frightened to break the tension by speaking.

“Looks like Potter’s in need of some friendly distraction, eh?” Seamus asked. “Care to distract me, Lav?” He got off his chair and gently helped Lavender up, taking her over to the sofa in front of the fire.

“What about studying?” asked Hermione. Ron shook his head before dropping it into his hands. He loved her, but sometimes, she just didn’t get it. The others got up from the table as well amid more protests from Hermione until it was just the two of them sitting there. Ron, still studying the grain of the wooden table, knew she was staring at him, daring him to get off his duff.

“What?” Ron asked, looking at Hermione. “They’re right, you know. You’re a slave driver and you never give us a break. And besides, who the bloody hell put you in charge of our studying? You’re Head Girl of Hogwarts not Head of House, so if they want to muck up their exams, let them. It’s not your job to make their lives miserable. Harry and I let you because you’ve always done it. But please, Hermione, don’t make everyone else miserable as well.” Ron slid his chair back from the table amidst cheers and whistles. For the first time, he didn’t notice that sort of attention and grumpily headed toward the stairs and his room. He felt miserable. He just told Hermione off in front of the majority of Gryffindor, including the midgets. Harry was out running about the castle with his sister, doing Merlin knows what…

“Damn!” Ron looked down at his watch. It was ten of nine, and he had to go on rounds shortly. _Oh that will be loads of laughs that will._ Ron swung himself around and headed back towards the common room. “Thomas!” he barked.

“What do you want, Weasley?” Dean had been disturbed mid-snog with Parvati.

“Go find Harry and Ginny, will you? I don’t fancy finding them half-starkers in a cupboard.”

“And why should I?” Dean was vaguely irritated by Ron’s request.

“Because I have rounds with Padma tonight and I really don’t want to pick your bits off the floor after she gives you and Parvati a nasty hex, okay? Now go!” Parvati squealed and swiftly ran past Ron and flew up the stairs to her room. _Didn’t know she could move that fast._ Dean gruffly got off the chair he’d been sharing with Parvati and stormed toward the portrait hole.

*****

“Hmmm, Potter, Harry…” Mr. Filch scanned the list of students going into the village.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning and Ron couldn’t wait to go into Hogsmeade one last time before exams. He was running low on Weasleys’ Mini Whiz-Bangs, and he’d made a promise to George and Fred to make the weeks before the end of term a bit interesting for the old caretaker.

“Check. Weasley, Ginevra…” His bony finger scanned the list. “Check. Granger, Hermione.”

“Oh come on, Filch! You knew I was standing right here! You could have checked me off the list right after Ginny.” Ron glared at the elderly caretaker, silently daring him to take longer than necessary. Ron felt Hermione tug on his sleeve and gave him a look he knew not to challenge.

“Check. Ah, Weasley, Ronald. W…W…That’s on a different page now. Hmmm…”

“Hurry up, you old codger!”

“Is there a problem, Mr. Weasley?” Ron jumped at Professor McGonagall’s sudden appearance. “Mr. Filch?”

“Here it is! Weasley, Ronald. Check.” Filch gave Ron a rather nasty looking toothless grin.

“About bloody time,” Ron retorted.

“Mr. Weasley, do you want to go to the village or not?” Ron was suddenly reminded of his mother and decided he’d rather go to Hogsmeade than have detention with McGonagall. He clenched his jaw as the four of the made their way into the village.

“So, Harry, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” Ron asked when they were outside the bake shop. Harry didn’t answer, and kept staring at Parvati Patil as she ate a doughnut--a cream-filled doughnut that oozed filling out the other side. _Ah, I get it. He’s a randy old bastard._

“Huh?” His eyes were glazed over. Ron knew that look. Hell, he’d even worn that look.

“What else do you want to do today, Harry?”

“Uh, dunno. I think Ginny wanted to do something later on.”

“Uh huh,” Ron replied, trying to said as nonchalant as possible. “You hungry?” Ron swung his arm around Hermione and leaned over, whispering in her ear. “I think Harry and Ginny have something planned for later on, you know?” She raised her eyebrows, indicating her understanding.

“Ooh and asparagus is in season, too!” Hermione’s grin was infectious and the two of them shared a laugh. “Did he see the peppermint sticks in Honeydukes?”

“You mean the one you used to demonstrate your oral sex technique? How could he not? Sexiest thing I’ve seen in a while.” Ron gave her a peck on the cheek and they followed Harry and Ginny into The Three Broomsticks.

“Say, Harry,” Ron began once they were seated, “I was thinking about building my own Quidditch pitch one day. How thick are the goal posts, you reckon? I mean, they’ve got to be real thick to do the job and hold up against all sorts of beatings and weather. If they aren’t just the right thickness, they’ll fall over, disappointing everyone.” He could barely hide his grin and noticed Hermione had her face buried in her menu.

“Uh, well, Ron, I didn’t know that you wanted to do that?” Harry’s voice rose an octave or two as he spoke.

“Yeah, it’s a new dream. I love Quidditch, and playing it all the time really makes me want to experience it more and more. Quidditch is a great stress reliever and I always feel completely spent after I play.” Harry’s face was ashen.

Once lunch arrived, Ron was so pleased with himself. He’d ordered sausages, chips and beans, and embarrassed Harry with his sausage so much he nearly choked on his fish and chips. And then Hermione, Merlin bless her, showed Harry her overcooked asparagus drooping from her fork.

“You all right there, Harry?” Ron asked through a mouthful of beans. Harry groaned for the umpteenth time that morning.

“Yeah, Ron, fine. You know what?” Ron was about to say something witty, but Harry stopped him. “I was thinking about all the Quidditch playing I’ve done and I thought about my statistics, you know, how many times I caught the Snitch, how many times I’ve been hit by Bludgers. You know, fascinating Quidditch stuff…” Ron could hardly understand a word Harry was saying. His friend’s voice was something akin to the dull droning of a swarm of bees, and Ron was sure Harry had no idea what he was saying.

“…the probability of all that happening to one person, well, is just…”

“Stop!” The dull buzzing of Harry’s voice had grated on Ron’s last nerve and it was time for him to put a stop to it. “You sound like Hermione on steroids! What’s got into you, Harry? Ginny? Did you do something to him?” Ron knew what was wrong, but he couldn’t let this opportunity pass him by. “You’ve been awfully quiet all day, and you haven’t taken your eyes off Harry. What’s going on?”

“Um, uh, nothing, Ron,” Harry answered. “I’m fine.”

“So, Ginny, what’s wrong with you then? I usually can’t shut you up,” Ron pointed out. Hermione reached over and grabbed his thigh, causing Ron to think of something completely different, and he no longer cared about what his best friend and sister were going to do later on. With one touch, Hermione told him she was horny, and enough was enough.

“Ron, come on. Show me that Quidditch book you were looking at in Flourish and Blotts. You’ve been such a good boy that you need a present.” Ron smiled at her; they liked to refer to sex as Quidditch when they were in public. He gladly slid back his chair, took her hand, and practically flew out the door.

*****

“In here, now, Weasley!” Hermione pulled him into the broom cupboard and slammed him against the wall, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

In the dark room, Hermione tugged his shirt out of his jeans and plastered herself against his chest, quickly followed by her lush lips pressed against his. He opened his mouth to say something, but her tongue silenced him, save for a small groan that increased the fervour of her kiss. Ron felt his eyes rollback in his head as her hand went to his crotch and started moving against his aching cock. His hands moved from his sides to her shirt, squeezing the fullness of her breast, eliciting a whimper from her lips that was utterly sexy, causing him to do it again.

“Mione,” he groaned, “hey, slow down.” Regretfully, he pulled away from her and recognised the desire in her breathing and in the intensity of her gaze, even in the dark.

“I can’t help it Ron.” Her mouth began nibbling at his neck as she continued talking. “All that teasing Harry…” She sucked on his pulse point and kissed her way around to the other side of his neck. “Then talking about Quidditch when it really wasn’t Quidditch. Ron…” She made her way down to his collar bone and ran her tongue across to the other side.

“Oh hell,” Ron groaned. He grabbed her by the shoulders and swung her around so she was against the wall. Their lips met and Ron’s hands began to undo Hermione’s trousers, while she worked on his jeans. Hips, hands, mouths and lips began their work, pushing their bodies closer together in the little room, freeing them from the barriers that separated them from their goal.

“Ron, now!” Hermione begged and removed his fingers from her warmth and tugged the silk boxers he wore down just enough so she could wrap her fingers around him.

Suddenly, light blinded them as the door opened, trapping them, quite literally, with their pants down. A nasty hiss near their feet told them the identity of the intruder.

“Granger! Weasley!” It was Argus Filch. “That’s it! You’re in for it now. Even McGonagall can’t protect you from this one. There are strict rules about this…” Mr. Filch never finished his sentence before falling to the floor, arms and legs frozen to the sides of his body.

“Nice one there,” Hermione congratulated Ron. “Well, that’s all well and good, but, um, I don’t think I can continue.” She kissed Ron quickly on the cheek and pulled his jeans up from his ankles and up over his bum. “I see the moment has passed for you as well.” She let out a snort of laughter.

“Funny, love. Real funny.”

*****

Ron was seated at a table across from Seamus, playing chess against the Irish boy, and strangely enough, losing. Ron furrowed his brow as he surveyed the board, trying to figure out exactly where he went wrong. Then it hit him. Harry and Ginny were still gone. Glancing at his watch, Ron shook his head, trying to calm himself.

“Ron? Hey, Ron? Death Eaters are in the castle!”

“Huh?” Ron’s head snapped up only to find Seamus’ jovial face looking at him with a stupid grin. Shaking his head again, Ron said, “Cute, Finnigan. So is it your move or mine?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. Never really liked the game meself. Couldn’t quite get the hang of it,” Seamus admitted.

“Well, you’re winning,” Ron pointed out.

“Ron’s losing?” That was Lavender in her squeaky and irritating voice that made Ron’s skin crawl. She used that tone when she called him ‘Won-Won.’ Lavender sashayed over to the table and studied the board. “Move your knight there, honey, and then he’ll have to move the bishop. That will open up his queen, and you can take her.”

Both boys stared at her, mouths gaping. _When did she learn how to play chess?_

“When did you learn to play?” Seamus wondered, echoing Ron’s thoughts.

“Well,” she began and cleared her throat, “I watched you, Ron.”

“You’re kidding. All we ever did was kiss.”

“Not all the time. I watched you play Harry and Ginny.” She smiled and moved Seamus’ knight for him. “Speaking of which, where are they? I haven’t sent them since Hogsmeade?”

Ron started to pout and lay his head on his folded arms. He reluctantly moved his bishop, not caring about the end result of a game for the first time in his life. He had other things on his mind, like the fact that his best friend was probably off having sex with his little sister and that thought made his stomach all queasy. He let out a groan and buried his head in his arms.

“What’s the matter?” Seamus’ voice sounded a million miles away.

“Harry. Ginny. Sex.” His disjointed words were filled with irritation. Lifting his head from his arms, he looked Seamus straight in the eye. “Got anything left from Dean’s party?” Seamus beamed at him.

“Aye. I know just what you need. I was going to ask you meself tonight.” Seamus got up from his chair and headed up toward the dorm.

“Ron…” _Hermione. Damn._ Ron forgot she was in the room. _She’s going to get bossy on me now._ “Ron, you know you can’t.”

“Bugger off, Mione! It’s either get pissed with Seamus or go running about the countryside looking for my sister while her virginity is still intact,” he barked.

“Fine! Just don’t expect me to brew you a potion in the morning, then,” she retorted.

“When have you ever, anyways?” He watched her as she climbed the stairs, disappearing on her way to her room. He sincerely hoped Seamus still had some leftover Firewhisky. He needed something strong.

“Looky what I’ve got, Weasley!” It was Seamus with two bottles of Ogden’s Black Label--the good stuff.

“Gimme one.” Ron grabbed the bottle from Seamus and flung himself down on the sofa closest to the fire. He raised the bottle to his lips and swallowed. “Oh, that’s good.” His voice was raspy from the burn of the alcohol, and his eyes were squeezed shut. Opening his eyes, he saw Seamus lifting his bottle to toast him.

“To the women who make our lives worth a damn,” Seamus announced. They clanked their bottles and drank again.

After what could have been an hour or three, Ron felt rather good. His bottle was nearly empty and he was in no condition to perform the Refilling Charm again. Lying across the sofa, he hugged his bottle of Firewhisky while wearing a stupid grin on his face.

“So Finn-gan…Wha’s Lavenda like in tha sack?” It was a good thing Ron was drunk, because he knew he’d never have the balls to have this conversation sober.

“Eh, she’s a right tiger on mos’ occasions, mate. How far’d ye git wit’ her?” Seamus’ voice was a mixture of Irish brogue and Drunken Slur, and the combination made Ron laugh.

“She wuz a tease. Wouldn’ even lemme feel ‘er up. But Mione, man, she’s got some tits on her, ye know?”

“Tha’ she does, Wheezy!” Seamus’ tone was entirely too exuberant for Ron’s taste, even in his current state of inebriation.

“Whatcha mean? Yer checkin’ out my witch?”

“Ye assed!” Seamus took another drink from his bottle. “Yer sisser’s not so bad ‘erself! Podders getting’ him summat, ye know?”

Ron groaned. His bottle was empty. “Shut it! Tha’s my sisser, ye wanker!”

“Hey, she’s a righ’ fine lookin’ witch. She’s got great tits, too. Saw ‘em meself in the dorm. Full an’ all perky an’…Ah, shit. Gave meself a hard on thinkin’ ‘bout ‘er,” Seamus slurred.

“Yeah, well, I ‘ave ‘nough trouble thinkin’ ‘bout Gin wit’ Harry. Gonna kill the fuckin’ basserd if he knocks her up, tho’!”

“Rawn,” Seamus began, “I taugh’ Haree a charm dis mornin’ and I hepped him plan it all out.” He belched and licked his lips. “Gin-nee’ll be fine.”

Ron bolted up into a sitting position and quickly grabbed his head. “Fuck you, Finn-gan. I bloody well…” Ron fell back against the arm of the sofa, snoring loudly.

*****

Something tickled his nose. Reaching up to slap it off, Ron felt something cold and mushy ooze between his face and finger. “What the hell?” His hand was covered in what looked like whipped cream; however, upon further investigation, with his tongue, no less, he discovered it was Muggle shaving cream. Giggles behind him caused Ron to turn around and find Ginny, Hermione, Lavender and Parvati standing behind the sofa; an ostrich plume dangled over his head.

“Have a nice lie-in, Ron?” Hermione asked him with an evil look upon her face that rivalled that of Voldemort’s. “It’s nearly noon, you know.”

“Firewhisky, Ron? You know you can’t hold that shite down.” Ron glared at his sister, who was looking entirely too pleased with herself, in more ways than one.

“So what’s it to you? It’s all your fault, you little tart!” Ron’s headache was protesting the force of his outburst, threatening to explode.

“Excuse me? I was no where near this little party,” she reminded him. Ron noticed her blush but was again forced into silence due to the pounding of his head. “Here. I made this for you since Hermione wouldn’t. Go ahead, drink it.” She handed him a small vial containing a murky green fluid. Ron recognised it immediately as Weasleys’ Wicked Hangover Relief, one of his brothers’ more useful inventions.

“Thanks. Bottoms up!” He swallowed the potion much like a shot. _Can’t they make it taste any better_ , he roared to himself.

“And Ron,” spoke Hermione, bringing him out of his thoughts, “just remember, I need you all better tonight. We have rounds.” Her hand stroked his cheek seductively. He was putty in her hands.

_Rounds with Hermione? Well, if that’s not the best pick-me-up, nothing is._


End file.
